My father has returned from hospital to the bosom of his family. They were kind to him in the hospital; fixing his hip, giving him birthday cake and delivering newspapers to his room between 8 and 8.30 (ah private healthcare). My sister phoned me the day of the operation and she was in his room and she said to me, “Do you want to talk to him?” “Not unless he wants to talk to me,” I said and I could hear him in the background saying, “Not unless she has something particular to say.” Later, I said to her, “You know, I was worried, he is not as young as he once was and he could have died under a general anaesthetic.” “Well then,” she said, “you would have had the comfort of knowing that your last interaction with him was utterly typical.”
All the same, I am very relieved that he is at home and on the road to recovery.
